We had now got about two thirds of the way across the ocean, when the wind died away, and we lay two or three days becalmed. The sea was as quiet as a mill-pond, and as smooth as glass. The captain did nothing but fret and fidget, for the master of a ship cannot endure any delay on his voyage. About the third day there rose a heavy swell of the sea, which caused the vessel to roll from side to side in a manner most uncomfortable to us all. I was surprised at this, as there was no wind to agitate the water; but the captain informed me that when a gale of wind is approaching, the swell always comes before the wind. He now told us to look out for a heavy blow. The mercury in the barometer had fallen suddenly, which is a pretty sure indication of a storm at hand. By-and-by, a mass of thick, heavy clouds began to rise in the west, and soon the heavens were completely overspread. The surface of the water quickly became agitated by ripples, and the swell increased. The wind now began to snuffle, then to blow in heavy gusts and sing through the cordage in a most alarming style. We close-reefed the topsails and scudded before it. The gale came on harder and harder, and the seas rolled around us in a most terrific manner. Now and then the crest of a mountainous wave would dash over the stern and sweep the deck fore and aft. At such times the sailors were obliged to cling fast to the spars and rigging, to save themselves from being washed overboard. In the midst of the gale I was astonished at the sight of a wonderful flame of fire that came hovering round the ship. It was a bright, thin, quivering mass of light, as big as a man’s head, somewhat like the sun when seen through a fog or thin haze. From what quarter it came I could not discern--whether from the clouds or the sea, but the captain said it appeared to gather in the air. It hovered over us for some minutes, and then settled on one of the _lifts_ or ropes which sustain the upper yards. There it remained two or three minutes, after which it glided down the stay to the bowsprit, and then disappeared. I must confess I was greatly amazed at this strange phenomenon, which, happening in the midst of a terrible storm, was certainly enough to frighten any common person. The captain, however, told me not to be alarmed, for such appearances, though not very common, were yet too well known at sea to cause any fear to an experienced mariner. This strange luminous body is called by the sailors a _corposant_, a corruption of the Portuguese words _corpo santo_, “holy body.” It is a sort of meteor, engendered probably from electrical matter in the air, and never appears but in heavy gales of wind. Sometimes two of them appear together. After their disappearance, the sailors believe the strength of the gale to be broken. In fact, within an hour after the appearance of this, which I saw, the wind began to lull, and ere long subsided to a moderate